The Tomato-Head's Gift
by Starren Moonstone
Summary: Sequel/Companion to Losing the Kingdom. An explosion has left Spain in a coma, leaving Italy and Romano to wonder what caused it and why Spain would put himself in a position like that in the first place.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: This story is a sequel to _Losing the Kingdom_. Not that you can't read this without first reading the first story (I think/hope).**

**Update: I realised that the swearing in this isn't that bad. I sensored some of the swears and changed the rating. Now, I kept bastard up because I didn't think it was that big of a deal. So be warned.**

**So, without too much further adieu: The Tomato-Bastard's Gift (as the title should actually be).  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. I just write about it. Diego is my OC. Also, my Spanish is better than anything else I have attempted so far (language wise), but it is far from perfect. The bolded words in parenthesis in this chapter are the translations, brought to you by Google and my experience with Spanish. **

**Draw a circle, and there lies the Earth.**

* * *

_The storm caught Spain by surprise. Actually, it caught everyone by surprise; no one really saw it coming until it was upon them. Odd, but odd seemed to be the theme of Spain's voyage this go around. Ever since he disembarked from his country, he didn't run into any ships. Enemy or friend. It was just his ship and his men out in the mercy of the open sea. _

_ "¡Señor!" Diego, his first mate called out. _**(Sir!)**

_ "¿Que pasa?" Spain asked, coming up to Diego's side. _**(What's the matter?)**

_ "Un barco británico."_ **(A British ship)**

_ Spain took the eyeglass from Diego and looked through the heavy rain. Sure enough, it was one of England's ships and it looked like it was in trouble. Spain sighed. He had hoped that the first ship he would see would be one from his armada, not an enemy ship. _

_ "¿Así?" Diego asked. _**(Well?)**

_ "Traéis este barco por allá. Rescatamos qué lo que podamos." _**(Take this ship over there. We rescue what we can.)**

_ Diego nodded and started shouting orders at the men. Spain looked at the British ship, and as it drew closer, he got a look at the men on it. One of whom Spain recognized to be England himself at the wheel of the ship._

_ 'This is not good at all,' Spain thought, as he went down to the main part of the deck. He would have just kidnapped everyone and made them prisoners, but England was on this ship. While yes, he had a grudge against him more than anyone, Spain also respected him. Also, he, too, had a little one at home. They were in the same boat, so to speak, soon to be literally._

_ Spain's ship pulled up to England's, accidentally bumping into it a bit. Spain blamed the storm. Once his men were ready, Spain boarded England's ship. England's soldiers all had some kind of weapon in hand. Some had rifles, some had pistols, most had swords. England himself was holding a sword._

_ Spain walked right up to England, saying, "Well, look what the storm decided to wash in?" Once he was right in front of England, he pulled out his gun and pointed it at England's stomach. Not in an obvious way, just subtle. He needed to be the one in control of this situation for his plan to work. "Just between you and me," Spain whispered, just loud enough so only England could hear, "I have someone at home I'd very much like to get back to in one piece or else he'll kill me. No doubt you do as well. Surrender your ship and I'll see you home. ¿Comprende?"_

_ England raised an eyebrow. It was obvious the Englishman didn't trust Spain. "And how can I trust you?"_

_ "You really don't have a choice do you?" England looked down and saw the gun, his face paling at the sight of it. "It's not loaded," Spain reassured him, "This is just for show. My ship is fine. So tell your crew to obey my orders, or I will have you perish in this storm." Spain didn't want to die in the storm either._

_ England dropped his sword in defeat, his men following suit._

_ "Good. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you and your men. Just this once."_

_ Spain led England to his quarters, using the gun as a prop for his show. Not that any of the men knew. Once he had taken England into the safety of his quarters, Spain put the gun back on his belt. "Now, I have to get this ship out of the storm. Take a lie down. You look beat. I'll be back when we are safe and sound, 'k? Oh, and welcome to the _Asunción_."_

_ England nodded and Spain left the room. Once Spain got all of England's men off the boat, he went back onto that failing vessel, just to see if there was any hidden treasure on board. England always had some laying around. Judging from how worn the ship was, Spain had about ten minutes. Plenty of time to find something of worth._

_ He went into the captain's cabin. The walls were covered with maps and sea charts, marked up with the ship's original path. A journey that would never be fulfilled._ _The floor was littered in assorted books and objects, most likely fallen from their original positions due to the roughness of the storm._

_ There was something on the ground that caught Spain's attention. It was just a wooden box, intricately carved with a Celtic style. To be honest, Spain didn't know why this caught his eye out of all of the objects in the room. It seemed important._

_ 'Maybe it means something to Inglaterra,' he thought as he put the box in one of his coat pockets. _

_ "Señor," Diego came into the room, "Tenemos que salir. ¡Ahora!" _**(Sir, we need to leave. Now!)**

_ Spain nodded. While, yes, Spain was a lot more experienced with the sea than Diego, the first mate did have an incredible sense when it came to the sea. It was something Spain had learned to trust and even depend upon at times. Diego hadn't let him down yet._

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**I guess I should also point out for those of you who have read _Losing the Kingdom_, there is going to be some overlap. Not too much though, and the overlap that is there I will try to make it new and interesting as I did here. **

**Please comment, it helps with my writing. Next chapter will be up Thursday.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. ****Himaruya does,**** I just write about it.**

**Draw a circle, and there lies the earth. **

* * *

A little cat came running up the cobble stoned streets up to Greece. It got up on its hind legs and looked up at the nation and meowed.

Greece was used to this by now. No matter where he went, cats flocked to him. Not that he had ever minded, he loved cats and they were always there when he needed their help. He made to pick up the stray, but it backed off.

"Oh, is there something you want to show me, little one?"

The cat meowed approvingly, went up the street a bit, and looked back at Greece before continuing on. Greece followed, not sure at all what this was about. He had just gotten into Madrid only a few hours ago, called over by Spain about a week ago. Apparently, he had something he wanted to show Greece. In fact, he was trying to find his way to Spain's house. Not in Madrid itself, but outside of it.

Which was were the cat was guiding him. Not right up to the front, though, but in the back where there was a shed, which the cat stopped at. Greece opened the door. At first, there was nothing really unusual about the room. True, there was scientific equipment and materials everywhere… and there was remnants of smoke…

Greece stepped inside and took a better look at the room. On one wall was Spain, lying against the wall passed out. Greece knelt down, and tried to wake him up.

"Spain… Spain…"

No reply. This did not bode well. Greece picked up Spain, and brought him over to the main house, where he laid Spain on a bed. Greece checked over the unconscious nation for immediate injuries. The main thing was his head, there was some dried blood. Greece got some water and cloth and started cleaning up that area. Once that was done he bandaged it up carefully, as he had seen his mother do.

A doorbell rang from the front door. Greece went downstairs and opened the door. It was the Italian brothers, Romano being the one in the front. Italy was smiling as always.

"Greece?" Romano said surprised, "What the f- are you doing here?"

"I was asked to come," Greece said simply. He was used to Romano being blunt all the time.

"Oh, come on, fratello, don't be so mean," Italy said, then he turned to Greece and smiled as he always did, "Ciao, Greece."

They entered into the house. "Where is Spain?" Romano asked.

"Upstairs. Before you go, I n…"

Romano was already going up there.

"What's wrong?" Italy asked curiously.

"Not sure. I found Spain on the ground. He hit his head badly."

Italy bit his lower lip in worry. "Will he be ok?"

"I think so, he just needs some time to recover."

Romano's voice could be heard angrily yelling from upstairs. Italy ran up there, no doubt to get him to calm down. Greece headed out back to the shed. He noted that there was a black soot covering the area and that a big glass bottle was in pieces. There was some liquid still inside it.

Greece touched some of it and rubbed it on his fingers. He had seen this stuff before; his mother had told him about this stuff. Ambrosia, nectar of the gods and the bane of normal men. As for nations… something in between.

'Spain… what were you doing?' Greece thought.

Greece noticed some pills in an open box. They were light rainbow colors. 'Oh…' No, Greece still didn't know what Spain had done, but he figured it had to do with the pills. And that was enough for Greece for now.

88888

Romano was at Spain's side when Greece came in. He had a bowl of water, which he placed on top of the bed side table. "Does he have a fever?" Romano asked softly. All his energy disappeared after he cried out in rage before. Romano didn't think that Spain had a fever, but then again, Romano wasn't good with medical things either.

"…no. This is to help clean the wound," Greece explained.

"With what?" Romano asked, noting the fact that Greece didn't have any towels.

Greece looked around for a moment. "…oh…"

Romano groaned and went downstairs to get some clean towels and more bandages. He felt very bitter about everything and empty on the inside. As he searched the cabinet, he heard his brother's voice from down the hall. "…I just wanted to know if you knew what to do to help someone in a coma?" Italy said, a bit uncertain.

Romano poked his head out into the hall. Italy was pacing back and forth the width of the hallway, with a worried look on his face. "And who the f- are you calling?" Romano asked.

"Germany," Italy mouthed in reply, the he went back to his call, "No, well, we don't know yet, he just seems to be in one. He doesn't respond to anything."

"Get off the phone with him," Romano growled coming down the hallway.

"But… we have no idea how to deal with someone in a coma," Italy explained to Romano.

"We don't need his goddamn help. Spain isn't in a coma."

"But… fratello…" Italy looked hurt. Romano was having none of it. He still hated Germany with this blind rage that even he couldn't understand. He didn't trust that German.

Romano's foot caught on something and he could feel himself falling to the ground. Trying to stop himself from falling, he reached out to the bookcase that was to his right, which was a mistake because it ended up falling with him. And somehow Italy was caught up in that too, just his luck. So, two Italians were sprawled out on the ground buried under books with a bookcase almost on top of them. The only reason it wasn't on top of them was because the width of the hallway was shorter than the length of the bookcase. Romano looked behind him to see what he tripped on; a small turtle looked back at him.

"Why you idiota of a…" Romano was ready to throw the turtle out of the window.

"Italy?" said Germany from the phone. It was lying on the ground near Italy's hand. "Italy, are you alright?"

Romano made to snatch the phone, but Italy grabbed it up first. All Romano got was Italy's wrist. Good enough. Italy tried to put the phone back up to his ear, but Romano was stronger. So in the end, it ended up with Italy and Romano squirming around helplessly on the ground in a pond of books, with Spain's turtle looking on innocently.

Eventually, Italy had enough and gave up the struggle. Romano got the cell phone from Italy, but by that time Germany had hung up. There was a message though, which read: "I'm on my way over. Don't do anything stupid in the meantime."

"Now look what you've done, the potato bastard is coming."

"Really?" Italy said, his face lighting up with excitement.

Romano simply just glared at his brother. Greece came into that hallway and looked at the situation with a confused look on his face. "Don't you dare say anything," Romano said, pointing a finger at Greece. 'My f-ing God,' Romano thought to himself, 'We are hopeless, aren't we?'

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**Please comment, it helps with my writing.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. ****Himaruya does,**** I just write about it. I also don't own Hetaoni (which I will continue to make illusions to throughout this story).**

**Draw a circle, and there lies the earth.**

* * *

_Spain was floating in darkness, as if being suspended over a deep abyss on a giant invisible cloud. But he didn't feel any fear from it. He felt very safe, for a reason even he couldn't pinpoint. Maybe it was the music playing from afar. Music from his homeland played on a guitar. If only he could dance with this music that was playing..._

_ Then, suddenly, he was let go and he fell into the abyss. But he never did hit the ground with the force his fall suggested. Instead, his feet gently touched the ground and he found himself in a workshop, though it had technology Spain did not recognize. There was no more music; just the wind blowing through the open windows in a clam manner. His attention was kept by a simple box which was open. Its contents were white tablets. Pills._

_ Getting a closer look, he realized the pills were not just white; they had a faint rainbow color around them. Spain started to recognize what they were. He made these. They were..._

_ The room was suddenly covered in a smoky darkness that made Spain cough violently. It came all too suddenly, like something had silently exploded and all of the smoke was an after effect._

** Not again.**

_ He couldn't stop himself from coughing and he felt as though his lungs were just going to pop out of his mouth. He fell to the ground and was on all fours, helpless to do anything else but get the smoke out of his system._

_ He felt someone sit him up. "Something wrong?" England asked, concerned._

_ Spain shook his head as he continued to cough. It wasn't the first time this had happened; nothing helped except to wait it out. England handed Spain a flask, which he accepted and took a drink of it._

_ "Gracias, Inglaterra," Spain said quietly, once his coughing fit had ceased. His throat felt scratchy and sore._

_ "What happened?" England asked._

_ Spain shook his head, "I don't know. It's been happening to me a lot recently, though, ever since I started on this voyage. No need to worry about it though. I am fine."_

_ England nodded._

_ Spain tried to think back to the dream. He had a feeling he had been to that place before, whatever and wherever it was. But the memory of the dream slipped away from his consciousness slipped away, like water being held in a hand, leaving behind only a feeling of hope._

_ Whatever that meant._

_88888_

_"Something wrong, Ita?" Spain asked Italy with some concern. It had been a few days since they got out of that mansion and the Italian twins came over to hang out for a few days. At least, that was how it was originally presented to him by Italy. Romano, on the other hand, said that he needed some help with something. He didn't explain on the phone._

_ "I'm ok," Italy said, forcing a small smile, "It's just, getting used to normal life again, that's all." Italy clung tight to the notebook which became an unwanted souvenir of the damned place._

_ He looked so fragile, something that Italy had never really looked like before. Sure, his nation wasn't a strong one, but it still held its ground. Besides, even in surrender, Italy never looked completely defeated._

_(Later)_

_ "So he's a bit down. We all are right now," Spain stated to Romano._

_ "It's not that, bastiardo, and you know that. He looks like hell, and it's worse at night. Nightmares, constantly. That's torture for him." Romano groans in a frustrated manner. "I don't know what to do. That's why I came to you."_

_ Spain sighed. There wasn't really anything he could do in this situation. At all. "I can't help really. I'm not the one person Ita fully trusts."_

_ "Ok, then who the fuck is it?"_

_ "You're not going to like it."_

_ Romano thought about it for a moment. "It's potato bastard, isn't it?" he asked with some disdain._

_ Spain nodded. Romano glared at him with fire in his eyes. "I told you that you wouldn't like it," Spain said._

_ "It might be the only hope we have right now to get Italy better," Romano muttered, "It's not like him to be this serious. That's my job."_

_ "Ask Germany to come here. I'll even stay so you can have some solace." Spain smiled brightly._

_ Romano's expression didn't change, but he did turn slightly red._

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**Please comment, it helps with my writing. I also like hearing from you people, even if it is just a simple hi.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. I just write about it.**

**Draw a circle and there lies the earth.**

* * *

It didn't take Germany long at all to get to Spain's house, mainly because he was already in that country for business. Course, he didn't get there until the late afternoon, since he was stuck at work; all the while, hoping that nothing too serious was going on. He walked up to the front door and knocked, praying that Romano wasn't the one to open it. No doubt, if that Italian was the one to answer, Germany would get a tomato in his face.

The door did open, and indeed it was Romano, but he seemed calm. Of course he did give Germany a scowl. "How the hell did you get here so fast?" Romano asked suspiciously.

"I happened to be around the area."

They stared at each other for at least a minute; eventually, Romano looked away and let the German in. "I'm only doing this for Spain," Romano explained once Germany was inside the house.

Germany nodded. 'Fair enough,' he thought.

"Germany! You're here!" Italy said, making Germany look up. Italy was at the top of the steps. He ran down them and tackled Germany with a hug, almost sending the pair of them to the ground.

"Glad to see you too, Italy," Germany muttered, trying to regain his balance. He meant it full heartedly; it was always a bit of a relief for Germany to see Italy as his usual cheery self. "So, where is Spain?"

"He's upstairs, follow me." Italy sounded so proud to be able to say that, which made Germany inwardly chuckle a bit. They went up to Spain's room where Spain was, yes unconscious, but coughing violently.

"Oh, no, not again," Italy said as he rushed over to Spain.

Germany went over to the bedside as well and sat Spain up. The coughing lessened then, after a few moments, stopped altogether. "How long has this been going on?" Germany asked.

"Since I've been here, really," Italy said, "It almost sounds like he's going to chuck out all of his intestines."

'Thank you for that wonderful imagery,' Germany thought as he examined Spain. "He doesn't look that bad. I don't understand why he is in this state."

"Maybe… where he hit his head? None of us were there when it happened."

"Ja… maybe… for now, best that we keep him comfortable."

Germany propped Spain up on the pillows so he was lying on them. In case he started coughing again, it wouldn't be as much of a strain. Italy covered Spain up with the blanket, all the way up so that his forearms were covered. Germany placed a hand on Spain's forehead.

"No fever, that's good."

"...but he won't wake...not even move on his own..."

And that was the most troubling news of all.

88888

"You're staying?" Romano asked. It was very obvious to Germany that Romano didn't like the idea one bit.

"Only for the night," Germany explained, "See if Spain's condition changes. I have to go to work tomorrow anyway."

"...you stay on the couch," was all Romano said on that matter.

Germany shook his head; he knew what that was all about. Romano was such an overprotective older brother. Not that Germany would ever do anything like that with Italy; in fact, if anything actually happened, Italy would be the one to start.

Germany took out one of this training manuals and started reading, keeping an ear out for anything unusual. Nothing really happened, until later on, when Italy came into the room and claimed the other couch in the room. He took up the whole length of the couch, his head at the end closest to Germany. They didn't talk much, they just stayed there like that in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence, more of a comfortable one. This was a new thing for Italy, and he only did it with Germany. Truth be told, Germany liked it when it was just the two of them alone in silence. Never for long, because that would mean something was wrong with Italy.

**(The Next Day)**

"You're going?" Italy whined. Germany had just finished checking up on Spain again and was heading out.

Germany sighed. He figured Italy wouldn't like it. "I'm here for business. I came over because I just happened to be in the area. I'll be back tomorrow to check up on things."

Italy looked deflated.

"I'll be back tomorrow morning, to check up on Spain's condition," Germany stated again, with more detail this time around, "I'll be doing this until my business is done, then I'll be able to stay here until Spain recovers fully."

Italy still looked deflated, but he nodded all the same. He understood.

"Look up," Germany said kindly. Italy did. His eyes looked worried, almost scared. There was something he wasn't sharing with Germany, and the German didn't like it one bit. He also knew not to press the little Italian... not now at least. "You should go outside. It will put you in better spirits. How about watering that tomato garden Spain has? Surely it needs to be watered."

Italy nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Germany said, patting Italy on the head and stated leaving.

Italy hugged Germany from behind, which made Germany pause out of shock more than anything else. "Hurry back," Italy said in a muffled voice, since his face was buried in Germany's back.

Germany turned around, and hugged Italy properly. "Ja, I will. Take care of yourself, Feliciano."

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**Yay for GerIta moments!  
**

**Please comment, it helps with my writing.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Hetaoni. That belongs to other people; I just write about it.**

**Draw a circle, and there lies the Earth.**

* * *

_The grey creatures were in the library. Of all the places to be, why that particular room? At least they were all in one place, which made things easier for Spain and Romano. "Ah-hah! Just perfect!" Spain said, turning to Romano, who had a serious look on his face. "Are you ready to fight, Romano?"_

_ Romano nodded once, lifting up his gun for the fight. But as he did so, Romano suddenly grabbed his chest and let out a short burst of agony._

_ "Romano?" Spain asked._

_ Romano fell to one knee. "Ack…"_

_ "Romano, what's wrong?" Spain knelt down, putting his ax aside, "Is it your heart?! Does your chest hurt?!"_

_ "It's… happening again… It… hurts…" Romano's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell to the ground._

_ "ROMANO! Hold on!" At that moment, one of the creatures came swooping in. Spain batted it off, but it didn't do much for actually injuring it. Without much time to think about options, not that there were any to begin with, Spain pushed Romano out of harm's way, then turned to the weird alien creatures that were starting to flock over to them. "Just hold on Romano," Spain said, more to himself than anything, "Boss Spain is going to get us out of this mess."_

_ The battles were hard, but one by one, Spain took down the creatures. He could feel his stamina running low. "Eesh, how many of them are there?" he asked after a while, "Even Boss Spain's strength has limits!" Looking up, Spain realized there was only one left. "Oh, you are the last one? Brace yourself, then! I'm in a hurry!"_

_ Spain lept up and brought his ax down upon the wounded creature. It died on the spot. "Yeah! I win!" Spain lept up in the air in joy, "Romano! Boss Spain killed them all!"_

_ He turned to expect Romano looking at him being all impressed, but instead Romano was still slumped in the same position Spain threw him in. "Oh… Romano…" Spain got down in front of Romano so that he was looking at Romano's face directly. Romano had his eyes open, but they persisted strait through as if Spain wasn't even there. "Romano… can you hear me?" Romano blinked and looked at Spain, but there was no recognition in his eyes that he knew who Spain was. "Don't you recognize me?" Nothing… nothing at all._

_ Spain woke up in his bed on his ship. He breathed for a moment or two, trying to compose himself. Tears were running down his face and there was nothing he could do about them. _**Goddamn it, Spain. Why won't you wake up?** _Spain looked up at the ceiling of the room. For a second he thought he heard Romano's voice. But that was impossible. Right? Romano was all the way back in his homeland; nowhere near the open sea where Spain was located in now._

_ Unless all of this was a dream._

_88888_

_"Are you being serious?" England asked, looking at Spain as if he had lost his mind._

_ "Si, completely," Spain replied. The two of them were out on deck, in an area where there weren't too many sailors around so they could speak freely. Though Spain knew Diego was watching them with a curious interest._

_ "I cannot believe that," England stated._

_ "And why's that?"_

_ "It's too crazy. I have complete memories being here."_

_ "So does anyone in a dream," Spain said._

_ "Alright, fine, let's entertain the idea. Where is your proof?"_

_ "Somethings, Inglaterra, you just have to feel for yourself," Spain said mysteriously._

_ "So you don't have any." England didn't look impressed._

_ "No, I do. But you are going to call me crazy."_

_ "Let's hear it then." England crossed his arms over his chest and waited in anticipation for Spain's answer._

_ "I hear voices in my head." Once Spain said the words, he cringed at how it sounded. He did sound completely insane._

_ England looked even less impressed, if that was possible. "And that alone deems all this as a dream?"_

_ Spain just shrugged. He did believe that it was a dream, he could feel it. Which begged the question as to why he was there and why couldn't he wake up from it?_

_ "Do you have a chess board here?" England asked out of the blue._

_ "Sure, but if you expect me to play, I will have to disappoint you in saying I am not good at all."_

_ "Really?" England asked incredulously, an amused look on his face, "I highly doubt that. I suspect that you, sir, are just afraid of losing."_

_ "I never said anything about backing out of a challenge." Spain said, with a devilish grin on his face._

_ Spain and England went back to the captain's quarters and Spain pulled out a chess set. The pieces of this one were specially designed; one side was Spanish while the other side was English._

_ England picked up the English king piece. "Is this really how you see me?" England asked._

_ Spain took a closer look at the piece and laughed. "Not really, except for the eyebrows. I think this person based the design off of King Charles I of your country."_

_ "No wonder I don't like the look of him," England grumbled as he placed the piece in the right spot._

_ Spain took out his king piece, which was made to look like him. When he first asked the individual who made this, he wanted the English piece to look more like England, but didn't know how to tell the guy, so Spain told the creator just to made the king piece look like an Englishman with thick eyebrows. Once Spain was done setting up the pieces, he looked over at England's side. "Ready?"_

_ "You first," England said, "After all, you are the captain here."_

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**I don't describe the game because I myself am terrible at chess. Just know that England did win the game. :P**

**Please comment, it helps with my writing. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Hetaoni. They belongs to other people; I just write about them.**

**Draw a circle, and there lies the earth.**

* * *

Italy was outside in Spain's tomato garden, trying to water the tomatoes. He kept accidentally hitting the house or getting himself wet. It took a while, but he did manage to water all the plants. Turning off the hose, Italy looked back at the garden. He did notice that the tomatoes were starting to grow in, and he knew that Spain always did more than just water the plants, but Italy was at a loss as to what to do. He was an artist, not a farmer.

Italy returned back to the house and changed into something dry. He headed back downstairs, and he passed by Spain's room. The door was opened a crack, in which Italy could see inside the room. Romano was next to Spain's bedside, as he had been doing since the whole time they had been there. It worried Italy greatly, only because Romano hadn't moved from that spot, almost literally. He'd even sleep there if Italy didn't drag him to bed. At that moment, Romano was holding Spain's right hand and looking at him worriedly.

Italy went into the kitchen and proceeded to make pasta (what else?). He danced around the kitchen as he prepared the meal; he always did that whenever he cooked, whether or not there was music actually playing. In this case, there was none, and so he was just humming the tune of an upbeat song.

Once he was done, he put some of the pasta on a plate and put it on a tray to bring for his brother. He carried the tray up the stairs; Italy was glad that he didn't have any liquids on that tray because he almost dropped it at one point.

"Hey," Italy said, coming into Spain's room with the tray of food, "I brought dinner."

"I'm not hungry," Romano said. Just afterwards, his stomach growled.

Italy giggled as he put the tray down. "Oh really?"

"Shut up."

Italy smiled for a moment, then said, "You know staying in here isn't good for you."

"You'd do the same thing if it was that potato bastard, so don't chastise me for it."

Italy looked down guiltily. True, he probably would; he'd also be worse than his brother. That was his nature though, not Romano's. Italy looked outside of the window, where he could see some of the tomato garden, which gave him an idea. "What about the tomatoes?" Italy asked.

"What about them?" Romano grumbled as he started eating the pasta.

"Well, I don't know as much about them as you do, and someone is going to have to take care of them or else they'll die."

"How dare he?" Romano muttered under his breath. He sighed, "Fine, I'll help," he then pointed his fork at Italy, "But you better be there too."

"Aye, sir." Italy did a little salute.

88888

Romano was changing out of his clothes into a tang top and shorts. Since working on the tomato garden, he hadn't really seen much of Spain. Greece was still there though, and he was the best at medical care of the three of them. And Germany came by every day in the morning to check up on Spain's condition. He said that he would be able to stay in the house in a few days; his business by then would be finished. Not that Romano really cared.

A knock came to the door and Italy opened it.

"What is it?" Romano asked roughly, but then he saw his brother's face. It looked completely scared; he was shaking violently. "Another nightmare?" he asked, more kindly.

Italy nodded.

"Come on," Romano said. He knew Italy had terrible nightmares from the mansion incident and they always came up in waves, but it was usually when Italy was at Germany's.

Italy slipped into the bed and cuddled with a pillow.

"Do… do you want to talk about it?"

Italy shook his head.

Romano got into bed, took the pillow out of Italy's arms, and held his brother close. "We're out of that fucking place. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

Italy held his brother tighter. Romano could see glimpses of what Italy was feeling: forced isolation and loneliness that lasted for months. Even when he was surrounded by people, he was still alone with a burden that he felt that he couldn't share.

Romano looked around the room, just to make sure the two of them were alone, then he started rocking back and forth, singing one of Italy's favorite songs (though this doesn't say much because Italy loves a lot of songs). And while the song itself is something upbeat, Romano sang it slow and smoothly to make it sound more like a lullaby.

Volare ho ho  
cantare ho ho hoho,  
nel blu dipinto di blu,  
felice di stare lassù,  
e volavo volavo  
felice più in alto del sole  
ed ancora più sù,  
mentre il mondo  
pian piano spariva laggiù,  
una musica dolce suonava  
soltanto per me.

Slowly, Italy stopped shaking and after a while released his tight grip. Romano stopped singing and laid his brother down on the bed.

"Don't stop" Italy said, smiling sleepily.

Romano sighed, annoyed, but continued on until he heard his brother softly sighing in his sleep. "Ve… ve… ve…"

Romano shifted so that he was lying on his back looking up at the ceiling. It was at times like these that Romano wished sleeping pills actually worked. Not really for his sake (he himself could deal with nightmares on occasion), but for Italy's. Romano remembered it was worse those first few weeks out of the mansion. Italy could barely sleep. Eventually, Romano gave into his pride and asked Germany to come and help. Germany was the only one to get Italy back on his own two feet, something Romano himself couldn't even do for his little brother. There was a bond between Germany and Italy; Romano couldn't place why it was so strong.

Just thinking about it made him mad. Germany always reminded Romano of the boy that broke Italy's heart. That damn kid… Romano swore the next time he saw that kid, he would punch him.

* * *

**O_O Well, Romano... let me tell you who Germany really is... ****Just kidding; I won't be talking about Holy Roman Empire in this story.**

**Please comment, it helps with my writing.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. I just write about it. My Spanish is from my own experiences and Google translate. I didn't put everything in Spanish for the simple reason of I don't have the time to translate every little thing. Maybe I'll come back one day when I'm better at Spanish and translate the rest of it, but that is not this day. **

**Draw a circle and there lies the earth.**

* * *

_ Spain and England got off the ship and started walking around the port the ship landed at. England looked a bit distracted; his eyes were sort of glazed._

_ "Something wrong?" Spain asked._

_ "Hm? Oh, nothing. Tired I guess."_

_ "Fresh air will do you some good."_

_ "Hot air more like," England scoffed, "I can barely breathe."_

_ "You are not used to the heat?" Spain asked._

_ "My country is usually cool and rainy. Not… tropic. I feel like I am in an oven."_

_ "So _that's_ why you stuck with the Northern Americas."_

_ "That wasn't the original intention, but that's how it worked out."_

_ Spain laughed and took a deep breath. It was a warm day, with a warm breeze slowly brushing through the palm trees of the area. The two of them walked in silence for a while, just enjoying the company of each other and the freedom of being able to walk on solid ground. At least that was how Spain was feeling. It was clear something was bothering England, though the Englishman would never say anything about it. It was his pride, which made England be as stubborn as a mule, as Spain had found out._

_ "There is a place somewhere by here," Spain started to explain as they left the port and headed into a forest, "That you should really see. It's a giant waterfall and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Though it is hidden very well. Most people don't know it even exists. I accidentally stumbled across it my first time here. To be honest, I kinda got lost and there it was: this giant waterfall. I spent several days around that area, trying to find my way back. I felt so stupid once I figured out how close I was to port." Spain turned around to make sure England was still there, since he was being so quiet. A few paces back, England was down on one knee. "Inglaterra?" Spain asked, going over to England's side. "Are you ok?"_

_ England shook his head slowly. "I… I…"_

_ "It must be the heat," Spain guessed, helping England up, "No worries, let's head back."_

_ England stood up, then his eyes rolled back as he fell face forward into the ground. Spain caught him, sort of. It ended up that Spain was kneeling on the ground with England's face in his shoulder. "Well, this is an unexpected turn of events," Spain said out loud with a joking tone of voice._

_ Spain was able to maneuver himself, so he could carry England from the side, England's feet dragging on the ground as Spain brought him back to port._

_"¿Lo que está mal con él?" Diego asked as Spain came back with England to the ship. _**(What's wrong with him?)**

_"Demasiado caliente para él." _**(It's too hot for him)**

_"¿En serio?" Diego asked incredulously. _**(Seriously?)**

_Spain nodded. With Diego's help, they got England back in Spain's quarters and into the bed._

_ "Why are we helping him and his crew?" Diego asked, closing the door to the captain's quarters so that no one else would hear the conversation. "I know they are not prisoners; you are too kind to them."_

_ "Maybe it's because I am going soft."_

_ "We both know that's not true. What's special about him?"_

_ Spain looked at England then looked back at Diego. "We have a history. A long one. We may fight each other constantly, but in the end, we are both in similar situations."_

_ "And by history, you mean…?"_

_ "We keep seeing each other in battles."_

_ Diego slowly nodded, but his face showed that he still wasn't convinced. "There's more though. There always is with you."_

_ "As in?"_

_ "When you were talking with him earlier, you weren't speaking in Spanish or English. I've never heard that language before, and yet both of you were fluent in it."_

_ "You're point?" Spain wasn't liking where this was going._

_ "All I'm asking is honesty, sir. I have followed you this far, and will always be by your side."_

_ "Diego, if I told you the truth, you would question my integrity."_

_ "Try me."_

**(The Actual Memory)**

_ Out of all the first mates, Diego was Spain's favorite, all because of his instinct of the sea. Plus, Diego was a fast learner, and could be able to figure out a situation well. Of course, those qualities ended up being what caused Spain a bit of trouble with Diego._

_ After visiting Spain in his house three times, Diego picked up on the fact that Romano wasn't growing. By the fourth time, he spoke up._

_ "What is wrong with him?" he asked Spain in private._

_ Of course, Spain had no idea what Diego was talking about until Diego explicitly stated it. "Oh, that…"_

_ "Si?" Diego said slowly as if he couldn't believe that Spain would think something like that is normal._

_ "Please, it is nothing to worry about. Romano is fine."_

_ "He has been 5 for almost 10 years and you say he is fine."_

_ "I've been 25 for as long as I've known you and you've never said anything about it."_

_ Diego's eyes grew wide and he took a step back in surprised. "Really? I know you look as if you never age, but you've got to be older than that. You must. I'm supposed to be younger than you." His voice started to panic._

_ "And you are. Relax. Please, or else I cannot tell you. Sit, this may take a while to completely explain."_

_ With that, Spain told Diego everything concerning the nation's situation. It took a while for it to sink in. In the end, Diego did believe it, and continued to serve as Spain's first mate until his death._

* * *

**Please comment, it helps with my writing.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Two Spain chapters in a row? Yeah... My brainstorming powers went out the window, so I decided just to let the story move along. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia; I just write about it. **

**Draw a circle, and there lies the Earth.**

* * *

_ "Another ship?" England asked, appearing next to Spain._

_ "Si. Odd, isn't it? I haven't seen another ship since coming here. Well, except for yours, but that's different."_

_ Spain handed England the eyepiece so that he could look. "Sh-t," England said after a while._

_ "What?" Spain asked alarmed._

_ "The flag," England explained, slowly lowering the eyepiece, "It's Patriot."_

_ "It's what?" Spain hadn't heard that one before._

_ England rocked his knuckles back and forth on his forehead. "American Revolution…" Spain had heard of that before. "It's America's first soldiers… this encounter isn't going to be pretty…"_

_ "But remember, you are on my ship, with my flag. They will only pass us. Go into my cabin. I'll get you when the coast is clear."_

_ "No. I'm not in my uniform. They shouldn't know I am British."_

_ "As long as you don't speak," Spain clarified with a smirk._

_ The two of them watched the ship as it came closer and closer. Spain could feel tension rising in his heart. 'Why, though?' he thought._

_ The ship stopped right next the Spain's, and England could see who the occupants were. There were two individuals on deck: one was Italy in a cabin boy's attire, a red bandanna tied around his head, the other Canada in a maroon pirate captain's cloak, complete with a matching, three tonged feathered hat._

_ Spain froze as Italy boarded calmly, Canada right behind him. "What are you doing here?"_

_ Italy looked nervous. "As a warning. Romano is coming soon, and he's really pissed... more pissed than usual, like he actually wants to kill you pissed." He turned to England, "And you should probably hide."_

_ "But Italy, why is Romano here?" Spain asked._

_ "You never returned home."_

_ Spain could see a darkness slowly taking over the area. "No, I am coming home. I am on my way home. He should have waited…"_

_ Italy shook his head, "You don't understand. Spain, you…"_

_ "Bastiardo!" a voice shouted out. Romano came aboard the ship, his attire very similar to Spain's pirate uniform. The only real difference was that he wasn't wearing a captain's hat; instead it was a red scarf tied around his head. There was an evil fire in his eyes._

_ "Romano, you could have waited. I would have…"_

_ "You don't get it, do you?" Romano got right up to Spain's face, "You are in a f-ing coma!"_

_ Spain blinked. That's right, he and England talked about this. They were both in comas._

_ "You should have been home by now."_

_ "I'll be home soon," Spain said quickly. He had no idea how to get out of the coma though._

_ Romano took out a sword. "No, you are coming now. There is only one way out of a dream, right?"_

_ Spain's eyes grew wide. "Don't do this." He knew the theory: if a person dies in a dream, they just wake up in real life. It still did not give Spain any confidence that it would work._

_ "Then wake up, bastard. It's not that hard to do."_

_ "I would have if I could."_

_ "Yeah, right." Romano swung his sword at Spain, who blocked it easily enough._

_ "I don't want to fight you."_

_ "Then don't." Romano's sword came again and again, each time Spain trying to block it. There were two theories of dying in a dream. The first is that you wake up with just a bad scare. Nothing big about that. The second is that you die in real life as well._

_ Spain tripped on his own two feet and he fell to the ground. Romano put a foot on Spain's right hand so that he couldn't use the sword again._

_ "Please, Romano…"_

_ "Hold still."_

_ The sword came swinging down, and Spain closed his eyes expecting the blow. But it never came._

Spain opened his eyes and found that he was in a bed. The first thing he did was check to see if his neck was still attached to the rest of his body, which it was. He sat up and saw that he was in his bedroom back home. He sighed. The memories of the explosion were rushing into him.

The door opened and Romano came into the room. He had on blue overalls which were covered in dirt. Spain could not help but smile.

"About time you woke up, jerk face." Romano said.

"Hola, Romano," Spain said in a cheery voice.

"Don't do that, bastiardo," Romano said angrily, "Don't just smile and act like everything's alright." Romano loomed dangerously over Spain, and for a moment, Spain feared Romano might actually hit him. But Romano sighed and sat in a chair next to the bed. "You could have died, doing whatever it was you were doing. Greece said you were working with something dangerous. What were you thinking?"

"I was making a gift." Spain said simply.

"I could care less about some stupid gift." Romano planted his face in the bed. "Do you have any idea how I would feel if you died?"

Spain messed up Romano's hair. "Lo siento, mi Romano."

Romano growled, but to Spain it sounded more like a grumpy purr.

88888

_ It wasn't until Spain was going through some of his old relics in storage that he found a way to help Italy, and in that regard help Romano. It was in the form of book, a diary of sorts, detailing the adventure that he went on with France and Prussia, trying to catch a certain individual for killing people. How they found this person was a miracle in itself. It took them a long time to track this person down, but once they found the individual, they were dealt with accordingly._

_ That wasn't the important bit: it was the method of killing. It was this substance called ambrosia, which was lethal to humans if given the right amount. There were some survivors of the substance though, for one reason or another. These people had forgotten memories, most being the painful memories such as war and death and loss._

_ "What if… what if we could use this substance?" Spain thought as he looked through the accounts. Sure, it was be extremely dangerous for humans, but what about nations? Not in its original form though. That would be asking for trouble._

_ So Spain got to work on his gift. It would be for all the nations, but he was doing this with Italy and Romano in mind._

* * *

**Dun dun DUUUUN! (dramatic music plays)'Tis somewhat revealed what Spain was doing. Don't worry, he will explain himself soon.**

**Please comment, it helps with my writing.  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. I just write about it.**

**Draw a circle and there lies the earth.**

* * *

Over the following days, Spain slowly recovered. Romano wouldn't let him out of bed, and he was very stern on that fact, even though Spain just wanted things to go back to normal.

Spain had gotten up early one particular day from the sound of Romano shouting downstairs. From what Spain could hear, the yelling was directed at Germany, which was no surprise to the Spaniard. He knew full well of how Romano felt about Germany. And then the phone rang. Spain made to get it, but someone else got to it in another area of the house. After some time, Romano came into the room with breakfast.

"France called," Romano said stiffly, "He said to call him back later."

"I could have gotten the phone," Spain said, shrugging.

"Hey, I had no idea that…" The phone rang again. "Oh my f-ing God!" Romano swore as he went over to the phone.

"It's not even noon and already you are swearing?" Spain asked amused. He sat up and started on the orange juice. Spain was still having a hard time actually eating solid food.

"Shut up, tomato bastard" Romano said as he picked up the phone, "And what the f- do you want?"

Spain couldn't hear who was on the other side. He hoped it was someone who wouldn't get too sorely pissed with Romano for swearing.

"Who is this?" Romano waited for a reply on the other end. He turned to Spain and said, "England's on the phone. Do you want to talk to him?"

Spain nodded and put down the orange juice. He was nervous; what did England want? More importantly, was England actually in the dreams he had while in his coma, or was that too part of his imagination. Romano handed him the phone then left the room. "Hola?"

"Hola, Captain of the _Asunción_. How are you feeling?"

Spain breathed a sigh of relief. That ship, his ship in the dream. England would only have known if he was there too. "I've been better. How about you?"

"I've been worse. I just wanted to call to make sure you were alright."

"To make sure it all happened, right?"

"Yeah… about the explosion… it was an explosion, right?"

"Si."

"What exactly _were_ you doing?"

"Ah, that." Spain smiled to himself. He figured England would be asking about that. "I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"At least not now. I want it to be a surprise for the world meeting."

"You'll be able to make it?"

"I should, if Romano will actually let me out of bed." Spain looked at the door for a moment, wondering whether or not Romano was on the other side listening in.

"Alright, but if you can't make it, you have to tell me."

"I will, I will."

"Is it something good?"

"Si, very good. All I ask if for you to hear me out when I explain. Comprende?"

"Comprende. Though I have a bad feeling about this."

Spain chuckled a bit. "Don't. I'll see you Saturday."

"Spain, wait. Before you hang up… Thank you, for helping me out. I don't think I would have come back without you."

Spain was shocked. "Alright, what have you done with the real England?"

"I mean it, Spain. Also… this is going to sound so bloody weird, but… are we friends?"

"As in can we trust each other? I thought we had that whole realization in the mansion."

"Well, that, and can we come to each other in times of need?"

Spain smiled; England wanting a friend. That was a change. "Si, amigo. Anytime."

"Thank you."

Spain nodded, and said goodbye before hanging up the phone. "You can come back, Romano. Not like you had to go out in the first place."

Romano came back into the room. "What did he want?" the Italian asked bitterly.

"Just a few words and to know what I was up to."

"With the explosion, right?"

Spain nodded.

"See, you shouldn't have been so careless," Romano growled.

Spain smiled. This was about the hundredth time that Romano had said that. It was nice to see he actively cared.

The door opened and Germany came into the room. Spain owed Germany big time. Based from what Italy said, Germany cared for the Spaniard back to full health. Well, at this point in time, partial health. Spain would be walking around by this time, but Romano refused to entertain that idea.

"Feeling better?" Germany asked.

Spain nodded. "I think I'm well enough to get up, as long as you are ok with it, Romano."

"Do what you want," Romano said, getting up and leaving the room again.

"I think it would be a good idea for you to start walking if you want to get to the world meeting on Saturday."

Spain slipped out of the bed. He was a bit unstable on his feet, but Germany supported him easily. Together, they walked out of the bedroom and went into the sitting room, where Italy was hanging out in.

"Spain!" Italy said, running up to Spain and almost knocking him over.

"Cuidado, Veneziano," Spain said, "I still need to get used to my feet again."

"I'm just glad you're better. You really scared me."

"I know. Lo seinto."

"You still haven't told me what you were doing there," Italy pointed out.

"Wait like the rest for the world meeting. I promise, it's going to be worth it."

Italy nodded. "I've been helping taking care of your tomatoes, though Romano is the one who knows what he's doing. They look fantastic."

"Show me. I want to see them."

Italy helped Spain out into the tomato garden, where the tomatoes looked even better than Spain had left them. "Did you do all this?"

"No, I only did the watering. It was really all Romano's work to make them look nice. He tried teaching me a few things, but they didn't really stick. Farming isn't my thing."

Spain roughed up Italy's hair playfully. "No, it's not," Spain agreed.

Spain looked back at the house, where Romano was leaning against the door frame, pretending to be interested in the sky. "Romano, won't you join us? After all, it was your handiwork that kept the tomatoes alive."

"Only because you wouldn't take care of them yourself, bastiardo," Romano said, but all the same came over to Spain and Italy.

"We didn't even have a tomato fight," Italy said with a bright smile.

Romano rolled his eyes, "No, but you kept getting me wet with the hose, idiota."

"But you said you were hot, so I thought it would cool you down."

"I never asked you to drench me in water."

"Oh, come now," Spain said, putting on hand on each of the Italians' out-most shoulders, "Why don't we just enjoy today, hm? The sun is shining, the tomatoes are ripening, and we are all together. Let's enjoy it without quarreling for one moment."

The brothers looked at each other, not saying a word. The peaceful silence continues for a bit, as the three of them look up at the sky.

* * *

**Please comment, it helps with my writing. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, I just write about it.**

**Draw a circle, and there lies the Earth.**

* * *

Most of the meeting was just the usual stuff: America and Russia getting up into each other's grills, side conversations about food and cats (always being spearheaded by Italy), and general not addressing to the topic on hand (which once again was the lovely topic of global warming which everyone loved avoiding). Just another World Meeting.

Eventually, Germany said, "Anything else?"

Prussia's hand shot up, but Germany chose to ignore it. "If not, we can conclude this meeting..."

"Weeeeeest," Prussia said, leaning into the table so that he could wave his already-raised hand in front of Germany's face.

"What is it, Prussia?"

Prussia stood up. "Well, the awesome me was asked plan a party for all us nations and our bosses. Something fun we can all do for once. And since so many of you guys are getting new bosses, this is a chance to tell them about us without guns being involved."

America snorted with laughter, which ended up with England slapping him in the back of the head.

"Alright, so what?"

"We need do decide on a place to have it. A place big enough for all of us to attend. A place we can all agree on to go. I don't want to plan a place and then not have some nations come because of the country it's at. That would be uncool."

Everyone was silent for a moment. "I say one of the neutral countries," Canada said. Everyone turned to look at him, which was a first for him at one of these meetings. "Like Switzerland, if he doesn't mind."

"I do, actually," Switzerland said. He was a hermit by choice, his closest companion being Liechtenstein. "But… I'm willing to host, as long as it's not just Prussia working on this."

One hand shot up right away, that hand belonging to Poland. "I'm like totally offended that you didn't ask for my help in this," Poland said, but it was obvious by his face that he wasn't too offended, "I'd totally be willing to help out."

Prussia actually looked excited. France wrote down "German Sparkle Party" and sent the message over to Spain, who had a hard time trying not to laugh once he read the message.

"I wouldn't mind helping out as well," Liechtenstein said quietly, also raising a hand.

"Are you sure?" Switzerland asked.

Liechtenstein nodded.

A few nations gave some worried looks; Prussia's reputation was a bit questionable. Hungary stood up. "Trust me when I say this: it'll be fine. If you don't like it, help out yourselves."

Hungary and Prussia looked at each other for a moment; Prussia gave a nod and mouthed, "Danke."

France raised a hand, "I would not mind helping to set up the building we will be using."

Germany took the floor again, "All of us will pitch in what we can closer to the event. Liechtenstein, Poland, and Prussia will plan everything out. Unless someone has any objections."

Finland actually raised a hand. "It's not an objection," he said quickly when everyone looked in his direction, "I just want to help out as well since I have experience." He smiled awkwardly.

"Why not?" Prussia said, giving Finland a thumbs up of approval.

"Alright, gut, just be sure to update us on progress with that as time goes on," Germany said looking at Prussia, Liechtenstein, Poland, and Finland. "And if no one else as anything else to add…" Germany trailed off as he saw Spain's hand shoot up into the air. "Oh for Gott's sake."

"There is one thing, though it's more of an announcement than anything," Spain said, standing up.

"Make it quick, man," America said, "I'm hungry." He looked like a kid who has been forced to sit still for a whole day… which actually was very true to the situation.

Spain nodded. Some people were already standing up and getting ready to leave. "A few months ago, I came across a substance known as ambrosia."

A few people groaned, namely England and his brothers. Spain figured why easily, considering the fact that England had been under the influence of the substance.

"Most people here know what it does, so I'll cut to the chase."

"That's a first," Romano said, rolling his eyes. Spain roughed up Romano's hair.

"I was experimenting with it and I have made sleeping pills that actually work for us."

Everyone stopped whatever they were doing and looked over at Spain. "What?" a few people said.

"That's right. They work on us like normal sleeping pills, with the benefit of no nightmares."

"There's a catch," Germany stated, "There's always a catch."

"True. Only one a night, and only for a few days at a time, only because this stuff can be addicting." Spain winked at England. "All I'm asking is that this be kept in a safe place and to be taken out if one of us is suffering badly from nightmares and lack of sleep."

"Sounds good enough for me," China said, "I take them to safe place."

Spain handed over the pills, but kept a small bag, which he tossed to Italy. "I know you need them right now, Italy. You look as though you haven't slept for a week."

"But I…" Italy started to object.

"I did this because of you. I couldn't stand to see you suffering over and over again."

Italy looked at the pills for a moment then nodded.

"I'll watch him," Germany said, "Make sure he doesn't get into trouble with them."

"No doubt you will do it well," Spain said with a knowing smile.

Everyone broke up after that, all going to get an early dinner from one place or another. Romano came up to Spain. "I still think it wasn't worth you blowing yourself up."

"That was an accident, Romano. I forgot I left something on a burner and… well, as they say, the rest is history. But all is well; Boss Spain doesn't die that easily."

Romano punched Spain in the arm. "Promise me you won't do that again," he said, pointing an accusing finger at the Spaniard, "Not without telling someone what you are doing. Two can keep a secret, you know."

"Alright, mi Romano, yo prometo."

* * *

**'Tis be the end of the story. Sort of, seeing as there is a party in the works being planned by the most haphazard group of Hetalia (no doubt you all want to see where this is going). To follow this along, the story will continue in _Ich bin __das__ Heiliges Römisches Reich_. Only the title is in German (trust me, none of you want to see me actually attempting to write an entire story in a language other than English).  
**

**Please comment, it helps with my writing.  
**


End file.
